


Clouded Memories

by chibinecco



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Action, Amnesia, Extreme Levels of Sap, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2018-08-11 04:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7876876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibinecco/pseuds/chibinecco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an accident during an away mission, both Kirk and Spock somehow lose their memories. Not knowing where they are or who they are, they both must learn to rely and trust one another for their very survival. Along the way, dormant emotions rise to the surface, making the two men suspect that whatever they were in the past, it was probably a lot more serious and complex than mere friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One of a mass posting of old fics from years' past. Quality and fandoms fluctuating, notes from original posting at the end.

An alarm blared. Flashing lights overhead blinded his vision. Turning his head to the side, James could see a man, unconscious. Thick, green blood oozed from a cut by his left temple. James sat up slowly, trying to make sense of his world.

The alarm continued to scream at him, and James realized he needed to move, needed to get out of here. An arrant spark from one of the smoking machines around him set fire to one of the padded chairs mounted beside them. James staggered to his feet, wincing as his ankle gave a throbbing twinge. Grabbing his companion's limp form by his shoulders James began to drag him bodily from the vehicle.

Nearly clear, The man began to rouse, blinking up at James. "What?" He croaked, jolting upright. "The ship!" Scrambling to his feet, the other man ran back into the wreckage.

"Hey, wait!" James ran back in after him, dodging a falling wire that sparked dangerously close to his head. James coughed as he inhaled an unhealthy lungful of smoke. "Come on, man we need to get out of here."

"There is a third passenger." The man called back.

James heard a crash through the smoke as he limped back into the vehicle. Spotting a pair of packs, James grabbed them up, expecting that having something was better than having nothing.

He looked up to see his companion with another man draped limply over one shoulder. A crimson red shirt stained a dark sticky color where the man's blood had soaked through a deep gash in his arm.

"We must leave."

"No shit," James coughed, hobbling after the two other men.

Outside, the alarm was quieter, not surrounding James from all sides. He staggered a few paces away before dropping to his knees and vomiting. The ragged dryness in his throat from the smoke aggravated by the acidic bile.

"Are you well?" His companion asked, shouldering one of the dropped packs.

"Do I _look_ well?" James croaked, dry heaving as his lungs continued to complain at his treatment of them. "You shouldn't have run in there. We could have both died."

"You should not have followed me. We need to continue. In the event of the shuttle exploding we need to be a minimum .38 kilometers away."

"Is that likely?" James staggered to his feet, favoring his injured leg and snatching up the packs again.

"Negative; however, the possibility is not one we should tempt." The guy turned, forging a path along the deep swath their crash landing had created in the thick undergrowth.

"Jeez, slow down." James limped. "How on earth are you okay after that?"

"I am not 'okay.' I have several abrasions to my hands; my left radius seems to be fractured, and I have a minor laceration on my frontal cranium."

"You're carrying that guy with a broken arm?!" James balked.

"The distal portions of my arms are not required to support our companion."

"How much farther? You need to put him down."

"His safety, as well as yours depend on removing ourselves from the possible, fatal shock-wave radius if the shuttle were to reach a critical condition."

"It's already at a critical condition," James mumbled stumbling into the guy when he stopped suddenly. "Yikes, warn a guy next time."

"I shall endeavor to honor your request." The guy, dressed in a singed, blue shirt and black pants, bent to relieve himself of his passenger, grunting as he jostled his injured arm.

"Dammit, let me look at that. There's probably a first aid kit in one of these packs."

"Tend to our third man first. He has lost much blood and will expire far sooner than myself."

"Damn, you're right." James changed course, yanking a white crate with a red cross painted across the top from the pack and approaching the unconscious man. Using a pair of scissors, James cut away the man's blood smeared sleeve, applying a compress marked 'class four' to the man's wound. It was the highest number, and James suspected this was just the wound these were designed for. There was a gurgling bubble as the man's blood began to rapidly clot around the wound, sealing any more blood from escaping.

Looking through the kit, James read off instructions, looking for something that would encourage the man's body to replenish the blood he'd lost. Finding a small canister, James inserted it into the hypo and pressed it to the man's neck. Making him as comfortable as he could, lying against the side of the ravine carved out by their ship, James turned to find his second companion already utilizing the supplies in his own kit to bandage his hands and splint his arm.

"Are you okay?"

"My health is adequate, considering the circumstances."

"That's good, uh..." James trailed off, finally realizing he didn't know this man's name, or the name of the man he'd just bandaged. "Sorry, in all the excitement, I've forgotten your name."

"You are not alone. I assumed I was the only one who sustained head injuries sufficient to impede memory recall. My name is Spock."

"I'm James. Nice to meet you." James chuckled at that. "Sorry, just something tells me; if I had my memory that would be the silliest thing I've ever said."

"You suspect that we know each other well?"

"Yeah, something like that." James shrugged, standing carefully and hobbling over to join Spock and help him bandage his second hand.

Spock inhaled sharply, pulling his hand back to himself. "I apologize, my species have exceptionally sensitive fingers. The abrasions are too extensive for anyone other than one trained in medicine or myself to care for."

"How do you know I'm not a doctor?"

"Are you?" The unbandaged eyebrow soared up into hair stained with blood, both human and alien.

"Well... not as such. At least, If I am, I don't remember any of it. I just followed the instructions on the kit to give that guy first aid."

"I must confess, I do not remember anything about my past save my name, rank and ship."

"Oh? I can only remember my name."

"I believe the only reason I remember my rank is because I consider it an extension of my name. 'I am Commander Spock of the _USS Equinox_.'"

"So, Spock's probably your last name, what's your first?"

"I do not remember."

James laughed at that. "'I am James T. Kirk. No idea what the T stands for.'"

"Unfortunate," Spock said blandly, tying down the last of his bandaging. "Your ankle is sprained, allow me to bandage it for you." Spock cracked open his case, unfolding a second splint.

"It's not that bad, really, just a bit swollen."

"These supplies are available for us to use them. Your ankle will heal faster if properly supported."

"Alright, alright." James sighed, sitting gingerly down and laying his foot out on Spock's lap.

A quick cut with the scissors gave Spock easy access to James' foot, where he carefully removed the damaged shoe and sock, the crash having effectively destroyed both pieces of clothing. Aligning the splint to James's foot, Spock began wrapping the accompanying bandage tightly around James's limb.

James sighed, relaxing as his muscles were immobilized and the stiffness in his leg eased. "Okay, you're right. That feels pretty amazing."

Tying off the bandage, Spock set down James's injured foot. "Do you remember the name of our extra party member?"

"Yy-nope. No idea. You?"

"I confess, I do not either."

"So, we're stuck on a foreign planet with no idea who we are or how we got here?"

"That is correct."

"What do you think we should do?"

"Given the limited visual assessment I was able to give our ship as we escaped, I believe all burnable fuel will be consumed in approximately 83.77 minutes. With a .048 minute margin of error."

"That's approximate?" James whistled. "I think you must be a scientist."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because that's not approximate that's pretty exact in my book."

"'In your book?'"

"It's just an expression, Spock. Anyway, I say we should wait and see how the ship's doing once the fire goes out. We could probably use it as shelter. Then we won't have to build anything while injured like we are."

"A logical proposal."

~

88.67 minutes later, James was laughing at Spock's almost apologetic behavior that his estimate had been so far off the mark.

"Spock, chill. It's almost out, and you've had a pretty nasty head injury in the last six hours, I think being off by a few minutes is excusable."

Spock remained silent.

James sighed, at least he wasn't still apologizing. "Come on. It's probably good enough. We can look inside; see what's still salvageable.

Not much was. There was a space for where the beds used to be, but the chairs and consoles were sadly melted scrap.

"There's enough rations in these packs for a day or two, but if we're stuck here any longer we're going to have to scavenge for food."

"Without any knowledge of our surroundings we risk inadvertently poisoning ourselves."

"Not to mention risking allergic reactions," James agreed. "I know, Spock, but we can't really let ourselves starve waiting for help to find us. I think first thing's first, we should make some pallets to sleep on and put them where there used to be mattresses in those beds. The sun's well past noon, and we'll need somewhere to sleep before nightfall."

"I concur. Your plan has merit."

They worked together to settle their third into one of the mattress-less beds. James had taken to calling him 'Clint.' Despite having no explanation for calling a man without a name 'Clint,' James had picked it and Spock had simply followed suit.

"Damn it's foggy. Hadn't really noticed in all the commotion." James said, standing outside the ship again, James looked around the artificial clearing with Spock. "I think I saw some bushes with some really puffy leaves, or maybe they were seeds towards where we patched ourselves up. Let's empty out those packs and see if we can't bring back some padding for our beds. If we can find some kind of large-blade grass we could weave some mats. Not the best bed I've ever slept on I'm sure, but it'd be better than hard steel."

"You propose a resourceful use of materials." Spock said as he turned back to the shuttle.

They emptied out the packs, leaving a neat pile of supplies inside and filing out to find James' bushes.

~

Nightfall fast approaching, the two companions dumped out their latest collection of what had, in fact, been very similar to cotton, except green in color. They hadn't found any grass suitable for weaving, but they had managed to come across a tree with broad, low-hanging leaves which they had plucked.

"Blankets. Tomorrow, I want to make a blanket." James said, shivering as the fog from earlier began to creep into their little shelter.

"I believe a more prudent use of time would be to fashion a door."

"Okay, you're right."

They had also torn out the three mutilated chairs to make space on the floor. The layout of the shuttle had three rooms. One, large room full of various demolished interfaces with two smaller rooms set off from it.

In the smallest room,with one pallet, they had placed 'Clint'. They agreed was likely the captain's quarters.

The second room was only minutely larger and had two beds which they'd claimed for themselves.

Sitting together on the floor of the main room, James sighed. "We'll worry about anything else tomorrow. Right now, I'm starving."

"Our rations are severely limited at this time, and with 'Clint' unconscious, he will be unable to consume solid foods."

"Then we'll give the 'electrolyte water' to him," James said, reading the side of one of the four bottles between them.

"I do not believe that my physiology will require fluids to sustain myself in our current environment; however, you will be unable to sustain yourself on food alone."

"Damn. You make a really good point, Spock. Okay. Tomorrow: water, door, blankets. How's that sound?"

"That is a reasonable itinerary." Spock agreed, opening a packet of protein nubs and offering to share them with James.

~

The next morning, the fog was thick in their room, what little of James' skin was exposed past his long-sleeved black shirt and pants was dusted with a thin layer of moisture. Sitting up and rubbing at his eyes, James noticed Spock wasn't in his bed.

Fearing some animal had come in the middle of the night, dragging him away, James jumped up, running outside the shuttle. He couldn't see Spock, but a trail of muddy footprints led a path away from the structure into the woods.

Relieved that Spock had at least left of his own free will, James made use of a tree several paces from their crash site before following the trail. Spock had been right the night before, despite the damp environment, James felt incredibly thirsty this morning.

Ten minutes into the woods, James met up with Spock, coming around a tree carrying a large, misshapen pot. "There you are. I've been looking for you."

"You have found me."

James smiled at Spock's frank manner. "Where'd you get the pot?"

"A second examination of our quarters this morning revealed six separate panels of basic necessities that we did not uncover yesterday."

"That's great. Find any food? Or water?"

"No; however, there is a stream 1.33 kilometers farther from this point. Also, you will be pleased to know, one cabinet contained four fire retardant blankets."

" _Yes!_ Spock, that's fantastic. Now all we need is a door and we're all set."

"There are many more tasks to be completed before our shelter will sustain us indefinitely."

"I'm aware of that, but having everything we planned yesterday already done, and we haven't even eaten breakfast is good news, and we could both do with some good news."

"Your assessment is fair."

"Anyway, get that water back to camp. I'm gonna try to find some suitable firewood so we can boil any microbes out of it."

"I shall empty one of the cabinets in order to store any dry materials you return with."

"Thanks, Spock. I'll see you again soon. Pick a good flavor of protein bites out for us."

"There is only one flavor."

James laughed. "I know. We should see about finding food today too."

~

Back at the camp later, James returned with enough firewood to last them for a few days. Apparently used to the impenetrable fog, the local flora had evolved to keep out water, making it extremely dry on the inside once dead. Starting a fire would be difficult, but sustaining that fire would be blessedly easy.

Arranging his load of wood in the empty cabinet, James found Spock in the private room with 'Clint,' carefully propping the unconscious man up; so he could carefully pour the electrolyte water into his mouth. Small sips at a time, Spock paused between each to dutifully stroke the man's throat until it contracted in a reflexive swallow.

"He gonna be okay?"

"It is impossible for me to say." Spock screwed the cap back on the mostly empty bottle, settling the man down on his back again.

"How are your hands?" James asked when Spock nearly winced tightening the cap the last bit.

"They are healing. Your concern is unnecessary; there is no permanent damage."

"Yeah, but I can tell they hurt. Your arm's probably bothering you too. My ankle's still killing me."

"My injuries will heal with time and rest."

"Then you should be sure to get some," James said, mildly scolding.

"If you are referring to my early awakening this morning, I believe that my species does not require the same amount of rest as your own."

"Really? 'You believe?'" James asked, crossing his arms.

"I confess; I do not remember specifics or either of our species; however, I awoke this morning after 3.22 hours sleep, feeling refreshed and well rested. My injuries are healing as well as they are able."

"Alright, fair enough. I'll trust your instincts. Just, let me take care of any bottle caps from now on until your hands are better."

"If that would ease your concerns for me, I will grant you this responsibility without complaint."

"Now, come on. I want to get some breakfast, then we should try to fashion a door for this place."

~

Examining the original door while they ate revealed that it had been designed to handle the friction burn of entering an atmosphere on the outside, but had not been sufficiently protected from a fire on the inside. As a result, it had warped and melted during the fire and was now sealed permanently open.

Spock had assured James that with two working arms he would have been strong enough to rip the door free and use it, but that didn't do them much good now.

Instead, they had spent several hours collecting leaves from trees similar to the one they had stolen their pallets from the night before. Using native vines, they were able to lash several together into a form of thick, leafy curtain that they were able to tie to the support railing lining the top of the shuttle. It made the main chamber very dark, but the two bedrooms had windows making them very pleasant during the day; like now as they sat together in the room they shared together.

"I don't think this could be going any better, do you?"

"Even in this moist atmosphere, these leaves and vines will dry out, becoming too brittle for our purposes in less than 10.66 days. In that time, if we are not rescued first, we will be forced to create a new door."

"Oh, come on, there's no need to be a party-pooper."

"I am merely stating facts."

"We have bigger problems though."

"You are referring to the apparent lack of fauna in our immediate vicinity?"

"Yeah. I'd expect our crash to scare a lot of them off, but we went pretty far out getting everything this morning, and I didn't see anything. I saw a couple fruit trees around, but without any protein..."

Spock nodded. "What do you propose?"

"I don't know, Spock. I don't suppose you saw any fish in that stream of yours did you?"

"I did not; however, that was not the focus of my trip, so I did not exert an extreme amount of effort to that purpose."

James sighed, thinking. His eyes staring distantly into the middle ground. "I don't know what we're going to do if I can't find anything to eat except fruit.

"Plants would not evolve fruit without the animals necessary to distribute the seeds consumed."

"That's true..." James said, glancing over at his companion, noticing Spock's hands resting limply in his lap. "Are they stiff?"

"Are what stiff?"

"Your hands. Keeping them wrapped up like that will help the scratches heal, but it's probably not great for blood flow, here." James reached out for Spock who pulled his hands back to his chest.

"That will be unnecessary."

"I don't care; give me your hand."

"No."

"Why not."

Spock remained silent.

"I'll be careful not to hurt your hands. I know they're sensitive; they could probably do with a massage, and you know it, so give me your hand."

With a mildly resigned look, Spock settled himself opposite James and allowed his hand to reach out.

James wrapped his fingers gently around Spock's hand and began to squeeze gently over the palm. From the tips of Spock's fingers up past his wrist, James worked his way around Spock's hand silently, completely focused.

"I believe that hand has been sufficiently cared for," Spock said quietly a few minutes later.

James looked up to see Spock staring at their hands, his face lightly tinged green. "You okay?" he murmured. "I'm not hurting you?"

"No," Spock breathed. "As I mentioned yesterday, my hands are very sensitive. It is only that they are not merely sensitive, but also an erogenous zone."

"Seriously?" James laughed, glancing at Spock's crotch. "Wow, you're not kidding." He released Spock's hand, looking away bashfully. "Sorry."

"It is of no consequence," Spock said, holding out his other hand. "and you are correct that with proper circulation, my hands will heal faster."

"You sure it's alright?"

"I am positive."

"Okay then." James took Spock's second hand into his, beginning his massage, trying to ignore the way Spock's breathing had picked up, the heat permeating James' fingers through the bandages. "You think we've ever done this before?"

"I doubt severe abrasions are a particularly frequent part of our daily lives, or my hands would have significant scar tissue."

"No, I mean... maybe... I don't know, this just feels kinda familiar, like we've done this before when your hands weren't all sore and wrapped up."

Spock was silent for a bit at that. "I do not know. I have no evidence to confirm or deny your theory."

James nodded silently, going back to his massage. A few minutes more, and he was forced to admit Spock's hand was as circulated as he was going to get it, anything more would be simply gratuitous and an invasion of Spock's privacy.

"There you go," James said, letting go of Spock's hand. "All better."

"I believe it would benefit me to have you repeat these actions every 8.94 hours until I have healed completely."

"You're okay with that?" James asked softly.

"Why would I not be?"

"Just..." James trailed off awkwardly, his stomach growling into the silence between them. "Sorry. Uh... I think I'm gonna take one of our packs and gather up some grub. Maybe I'll run into a deer or something."

Spock nodded, following James into the main room, except he never got farther than that.

"Agh, what's that smell?" James asked. "It's coming from- oh shit."

"I believe you are correct," Spock said, amusement apparent even while he copied James example, lifting the collar of his shirt to cover his nose.

"Dammit. It didn't even occur to me he'd need to... go sometimes."

"I admit I neglected to prepare for the inevitability either."

"Nose goes?" James asked hopefully, putting a finger over where his nose was hidden beneath his shirt.

"That will be unnecessary. I suggest you proceed with your plans to locate edible fruit for us. I will clean 'Clint' and fashion an easier means to care for this in future." Spock said, entering the cabin. James felt Spock was very brave to volunteer.

"Ugh. I suddenly have a whole new set of reasons to hope he wakes up soon."

"Only two," Spock countered, and James laughed heartily.

"Alright, Spock. I'll see you in a bit."

~

That evening, sitting down to dinner of fruit and a meager portion of protein nubs, James said into the silence, "It's interesting."

"To what do you refer?"

"That we have no small talk. I know absolutely everything about you that you know about me and vice versa."

"An interesting observation."

"I suppose we could speculate."

"To what purpose?" Spock asked, plainly baffled.

"To give us something to talk about? All this silence is unnerving."

"If that is your request, I believe you to have been someone of authority," Spock said simply.

"What makes you say that?" James asked, biting into an apple-like fruit. It's skin harder than a traditional apple, but much juicier, dribbling over his mouth and chin.

"All of your plans have been both spontaneous and well thought out. You think quickly in a crisis and act selflessly, most of the time."

James chuckled at the allusion to his earlier reluctance to clean up their third companion. "Thanks. You're pretty quick on your feet too though. Maybe we were partners?"

"I have speculated that myself," Spock said.

James looked up, but Spock's face as a blank mask. He could have sworn he heard something else in his new? old? friend's voice. Shrugging it off, James said with conviction, "Doctor."

Spock's eyebrow shot up. "What evidence gives you such confidence?"

"You're so good with your hands, and you don't mind dealing with..." James gestured to the room where 'Clint' was resting quietly. Thankfully, Spock had not only cleaned him up, but had also had the forethought to open the 'door' and allow fresh air to circulate the stale air out of the shuttle.

"Indeed," He said simply.

"Well." James rubbed sticky fingers off on his dark clothes. "I don't know about you, but I think I need a bath."

Spock nodded. "I had noticed the tendency for your species to sweat during manual labor would require frequent bathing to manage the produced odors."

James laughed. "Oh wow. You just said I smell didn't you."

"I did no such thing."

"You did," James crowed. "I don't believe it."

Spock simply gave James a silent stare.

"Uh-huh. Sure." James smirked, grabbing up the spare blanket and heading out.


	2. Chapter 2

Twenty minutes later, James found himself completely alone, standing beside a fairly deep streambed. "Too bad I don't have any soap." He mused to himself, stripping down to his skivvies and considering his splint. He couldn't very well get it wet, the 'wet dog' smell that would permeate the thing afterward would completely defeat the purpose of his trip out here, at least one of the purposes.  
  
Now that he was on his own, James' body had taken to informing him just what he hadn't been able to do while in close contact with Spock most of the day. Ignoring that aspect for now, James decided the walk back could be done without the extra support; it wasn't too far, and he was healing nicely. Unwrapping his ankle and setting the supplies with the rest of his clothes, James then cautiously braved the chilled water. Surprisingly, the water was relatively warm. "Must be overflow from a hot spring. Just be glad it doesn't smell like sulfur," James said to himself, scrubbing the general silt from his body, ducking his head under and shaking the water loose from his hair when he came up.  
  
It felt good to get clean. Very good, he had to admit, sitting down on a large rock in the shallower bank-waters. The warm water had felt wonderful on his injured ankle, and also on other parts of him. His cock bobbed comically in the gentle current of the water, staring plaintively up at him through the clear water. "Alright, alright," James sighed, not particularly put out as he wrapped his fingers around the length of it and gave an experimental stroke.  
  
He gave a soft hum of pleasure, exploring his body. It felt weird, not remembering. It was as if he were experiencing the sensations for the first time, yet some instinctive part of him knew that wasn't the case. With a grunt, James gave his cock a rough, twisting stroke, jerking his hips up into the tight circle beneath the water.   
  
James let his mind wander. The sensations dancing strange colors and pictures across the backs of his closed eyes. Spots of red and black coalescing into vague shapes, cut cheeks, a strong jaw. James moaned as he allowed the vague face to take the shape of his fellow strandee. "Spock."  
  
As soon as he said the name, his hips bucked. "Like that?" James asked himself, twisting his grip again and imagining what Spock must look like without his tight, blue shirt and slick, black pants. Broad shoulders tapered into slim hips, strong thighs stood apart, an erection to match James' own stretched out for him, his touch. James imagined reaching out, grabbing Spock's hot, thick length, jerking himself faster.   
  
Opening his eyes, James stared down at himself, the dark spot of his slit poking out of the shallow waters, James' hand splashing as he rubbed the palm of his hand over the head. "Fuck." He gasped, pushing up, feeling a shuddery pleasure starting deep in his gut and radiating outwards. "Oh, fuck. Spock!" James shouted. Thick, white spurts shot out of him, splashing into the water several feet in front of him.  
  
Chuckling to himself, James watched the current carry his cum away until it had dissipated too much in the clear waters to see anymore. "Well... That was nice," He murmured, carefully getting to his feet and making his way back to his clothes.   
  
Quickly rinsing his clothes in the stream, James dried himself off and wrapped the blanket around his waist. It was rough, but held in place, allowing him to gather his wet clothes and begin the walk back to camp.   
  
By the time he got back, James was regretting the decision to take of his splint. The ground wasn't particularly uneven, but without the extra support, his injured ankle was struggling to cope. James had nearly fallen on more than one occasion. Supporting himself on trees as he could, James made his way along. As soon as the camp was in sight, he called out, "Spock! Hey, Spock!"  
  
Promptly, Spock came out, coming around he shuttle and trotting to meet him. "You have removed your splint."   
  
"Yeah. I didn't want it to get wet, but I think that was a mistake."  
  
"You have returned now, with the splint dry. Come, I will assist you, and show you how to reapply it in the future, so you will not injure yourself further."  
  
"I don't think I injured anything," James said, draping an arm over Spock's shoulders and allowing himself to be led back to the shuttle and into their room.  
  
Allowing James to situate himself on the bed, Spock took the wet clothes into the main room, laying them flat on the destroyed consoles to dry before returning.   
  
Sitting gingerly on his bed, James drew the blanket over his lap before lifting his foot for Spock to tend to.  
  
"I believe you are correct, you have not overtly injured the limb-"  
  
"But I wasn't doing myself any favors either, I get it," James sighed.   
  
"Aptly put."  
  
"Thanks." James glared at the foot in Spock's hands as the other man carefully wrapped it back up.  
  
Once he had finished, Spock sat beside James on the bed and held out a hand.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"As I mentioned before, it has been 8.75 hours since you last tended to my hands. They would benefit from a second session."  
  
"Oh, yeah. You sure it's alright?" James asked first.  
  
"Yes, your ministrations are sufficiently cautious and my hands sufficiently healed that you do not injure me."  
  
"I just mean..." James trailed off, turning to face Spock as he took the offered hand. "I dunno, maybe I can't remember, but it seems like most guys would find it kind of embarrassing to get hard in front of someone from what could be considered a medical procedure."  
  
"It is a biochemical reaction from the nervous sensitivity of the injuries and my body's innate makeup. I see no need to place additional meaning to the reaction."  
  
"Yeah, sure," James sighed, squeezing the fleshy pad of Spock's thumb.  
  
James was finishing Spock's second hand when he spoke again. "You've got nice hands."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"I dunno, they're just nice." James looked up to see Spock looking back at him.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
James looked away. "Just saying." He let the hand fall back into Spock's lap.   
  
Silence stretched between them, making James feel mildly uncomfortable, when he checked, Spock was hard again.  
  
"It's getting dark."  
  
"Yes."  
  
James cleared his throat into the silence. "Who were we, Spock?" He asked quietly.  
  
"I wish I knew," Spock murmured.  
  
James looked over. "We should get some sleep. We'll need to find a source of protein from somewhere, tomorrow."  
  
Spock nodded, retreating back to his own pallet.   
  
Tucking himself under his blanket, James discarded the damp blanket on the floor and settled in to sleep. "Good night, Spock."  
  
"Good night, James."  
  
~  
  
The next morning, James awoke alone, his clothes folded neatly on the floor where he'd laid his makeshift towel. He smiled at the thoughtfulness,. Pulling the clothes on and padding out into the main room, he checked on 'Clint' before heading outside to find Spock boiling water to drink.   
  
The fog was still thick around them, and James was getting quickly tired of the constant dampness that seemed to get everywhere, it made his clothes cling to him from washing them the night before.   
  
"Sleep well, Spock?"  
  
"Yes, thank you for your concern."  
  
James picked up one of the refilled bottles 'Clint' had consumed all the electrolyte water from. "We're going to need to find some kind of animal today, or soon."  
  
"Yes." Spock set aside the water to cool.  
  
Sighing after a long draft, James handed the bottle back to Spock. "You think we should split up to look or stick together?"  
  
"Splitting up would cover more ground; however, in light of both our injuries, I believe safety dictates we remain together."  
  
"You're probably right. You fed 'Clint' yet?"  
  
"I have not."  
  
"Alright, I'll take care of him while you get that water into a container. You know, I don't think four bottles isn't going to be enough, long term. We should make a trough, just in case we get any rain we'll have a clean source of fresh water."  
  
"As usual, your idea has merit."  
  
James grinned, going in to see 'Clint' and carefully coax some fluids into him. Thankfully, the unconscious man's injuries seemed to be healing without infection, keeping their job at least a little easier.  
  
~  
  
Traversing the forest with a bum limb was surprisingly difficult. James had expected to have to go slower to care for his ankle, he hadn't realized how much noise he'd make every time he set it down. Wrapped up as it was, he couldn't tell exactly where the ground was and kept bumping into the undergrowth.   
  
"If there were any 'fauna' here this morning, there aren't now," James grumbled, stubbing his toe on a tree root.  
  
"No." Spock was having just as much trouble with his arm. Without any clear paths, the ground was too uneven to move around without a hand hold.  
  
"Think we should turn back to conserve energy?"  
  
"That may be wise," Spock agreed.  
  
"Hey, wait." James pointed at a mass just visible behind a fallen tree. It wasn't moving; and as they got closer, they could see the mass stretched nearly the entire length of the log. "I think we found our protein."  
  
Spock stared warily.  
  
"Well, assuming it isn't poisonous. Mushrooms, Spock. We could make a stock out of this for 'Clint,' too. It's not as good as if we found game, but think about it."  
  
"The genus is not a true mushroom."  
  
"Whatever. Close enough. Let's cut some out and take it back with us."  
  
"We cannot be sure- Stop!" Spock reached out as James pinched off a piece and put it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.  
  
"Not bad. I'm sure I'll get tired of it pretty quickly once it's the only thing we're eating though."  
  
"Are you mentally sound?"  
  
"Spock, how else are we going to know if it's safe to eat? There are antiallergenics in the med-kit; and if I still feel fine by the time we get back to camp, then we'll know it's safe. A piece this small isn't going to hurt me."  
  
"You cannot be certain of that."   
  
James smiled at the concern ins Spock's eyes. "Think of it, Spock. We've seen _zero_ evidence of fauna. No trails, no scat, nothing. There's no need to be poisonous if nothing eats you."  
  
"Your argument is logical," Spock said, folding his arms behind his back.  
  
"Of course it is, now cut out a chunk and let's get going, my feet hurt and I want to get to making a stock for 'Clint' _before_ we run out of the electrolyte waters."  
  
Nodding, Spock pulled his shrapnel knife from his belt and began carving pieces and placing them into the pack.   
  
"We're going to need more than four empty bottles to keep stuff in."  
  
"I concur, but what do you propose?"  
  
"No idea, but the plant-life around here is pretty watertight we should see if we can make some kind of pouch."  
  
"A gourd or seed pod would be most likely to succeed."  
  
James nodded, looking around the patch of forest they happened to be standing in. "Weird that I can remember that, but I can't remember how we met."  
  
"General, factual knowledge is stored in a different location of the brain than emotional memories."  
  
"You find it strange that we both seemed to get exactly the right kind of head injury to forget all our personal memories?"  
  
"Yes," Spock said, resealing the pack and handing it to James who slipped his arms through the straps. "The probability of such an occurrence, without the precision of an outside influence, is too low for my mathematical ability to calculate unassisted."  
  
"You think someone did this to us?"  
  
"It is the most likely explanation."  
  
James swallowed nervously, adjusting the pack and turning back towards camp. "You think they're still watching us?"  
  
"I do not know."  
  
~  
  
Back at the camp, 'Clint' had soiled himself again, but Spock had thankfully arranged a makeshift bedpan, so clean up was decidedly simpler; and again, didn't require any assistance from James, for which he was immensely grateful.   
  
Spock returned, 'Clint' clean and draped once more over his shoulder.  
  
"I can't tell you how glad I am that you're strong enough and willing to do that without me," James said, giving his mushroom stock a stir.  
  
"So you have said."Spock ducked back into the shuttle, quickly returning to kneel next to James in the dirt beside the campfire.  
  
"We need some kind of grate to put over the fire, I have no idea how you can just hold this pot forever."  
  
"My species' muscle density is significantly more than your own."  
  
"Yeah, but if we could leave the soup to boil on it's own, then it'd free us up to do something else, carving spoons or whatever. Eating protein chunks with our hands is one thing, soup is quite another."  
  
James watched Spock stand and walk into the shuttle without a word. A moment later, there was a loud, wrenching noise, and Spock stepped back into the open with one of the metal covers for a console in his hand.   
  
James laughed. "That'll work." The cover had several holes and gaps in it for the different buttons that had once been an elaborate interface before fire had melted it all unrecognizable.   
  
Setting it beside James, Spock wandered into the fog along the carved ravine of their crash site, eventually, he returned with four, fair-sized rocks. Placing them in a large square around their fire, Spock lifted the cover and placed it back over the fire.  
  
James set the pot on it and let go. It held strong, bubbling merrily, letting him sit back and massage his arm. "That looks great."  
  
"Depending on the alloys present in the metal, some warping may be expected."  
  
"Spock, my arm feels like it's about to fall off, I don't care how mutilated it ends up looking, as long as it works."  
  
Spock nodded, his eyes watching as James massaged his sore bicep.  
  
James looked down at his hand, puzzled. "Something wrong?"  
  
"No."  
  
James looked back up at Spock again and remembered. "Oh, damn. I'm sorry, I completely forgot about your hands this morning. Are they okay?"  
  
"They are healing sufficiently."  
  
"Why didn't you remind me?" James asked, reaching out for one.  
  
Spock held it out, after a moment's pause. "You expressed reluctance on more than one occasion. The massage is not necessary for their recovery; it only speeds it."  
  
"That's only because I didn't want to make _you_ uncomfortable." James squeezed each of Spock's fingers in turn, ignoring the way the other man's breathing sped up noticeably.  
  
"Your concerns are appreciated but unwarranted."  
  
"Alright then. Whenever you need this, just tell me, alright?" James looked up at Spock, who was looking at him with an unreadable expression.  
  
"I shall obey."  
  
James ignored the way he shivered at Spock's tone of voice. By his own admission, it was nothing more than a biochemical reflex. Attaching any extra meaning to this wouldn't be doing either of them any favors.  
  
~  
  
Over the next few days, they fell into a routine. They spent mornings exploring the forest around them, collecting any useful supplies they came across before returning to cook lunch and spend the afternoon talking and playing whatever games James managed to come up with.  
  
So far, they had two considerably different games to chose from. One, James drew a large circle in the dirt, and they proceeded to see who could knock the most pebbles out of the circle by flicking larger pebbles at them. They didn't play this often, as James had a significant advantage being the only one without bandages covering most of his hands.   
  
The second, Spock had created a circular grid out of a large stone and some dark, red clay they had found. Watching Spock draw the precise lines onto the smooth surface had been fascinating. The rules to moving their separate pieces around the board changed frequently as they worked out the kinks to the game play.  
  
'Clint' had yet to show any signs of improvement; however, changing the dressing to his wound showed it was healing quickly. The speed at which this and the cut over Spock's forehead had healed made James wonder at how necessary the bandages over Spock's fingers were; but the other man insisted, asking for hand massages at regular intervals, every meal.  
  
James himself had long since foregone applying the bandages to his injured ankle. Sitting on a log by the fire, tending to Spock's hands before dinner, a thought occurred to him. "You know, I could keep doing this once your hands are better. If you want."  
  
Spock looked up at him, unreadable as usual. "That would be illogical."  
  
"I don't know. It doesn't hurt to get a little extra circulation help sometimes, and it's kind of nice, sitting together quietly, doing this for you."  
  
Spock nodded slowly. "Your offer is appreciated."  
  
James smiled at his friend. "Good." He patted Spock's knee as he finished, reaching for the food. "Now, let's eat. I'm starving, and I'd like to go bathe before it gets too dark." He had insisted on going out after dark once, and nearly gotten hopelessly lost coming back. Thankfully, he'd been close enough to camp that Spock had heard his frustrated cursing and been able to direct him back to camp.  
  
Apparently, low-light vision could be added to the list of superior abilities Spock's species had over James'.  
  
~  
  
At the stream by himself, James didn't bother with pretenses of cleaning first anymore, simply undressing and climbing into the water before taking himself in hand. The first go was always quick. Spending the entire day, looking, wanting what he couldn't let himself have with Spock. The most base images always took him quickly to the edge and over it, gasping and trembling as the water washed over him.  
  
"Fuck," He sighed happily, squeezing the last dribbles out before getting to the business of cleaning everything off. He let his mind wander, wondering what it would be like if they were never rescued. If no one was looking for them, maybe they would be trapped here. How terrible would that be?  
  
James couldn't remember his life before, he only remembered Spock and their metal cabin in the woods. Coming home to find Spock working on one project or another. They still hadn't successfully found a solution to their limited supply of watertight containers. Most recently, he had found Spock attempting to create a paste of plant-matter that he could use to glue two leaves together with. They would know tomorrow morning after the paste had dried if it worked.   
  
James smiled as he thought of the little crease that appeared between Spock's pointed brows at each failed idea. The man didn't show his feelings often, and James lived for the little cracks in the mask he seemed to wear at all hours.   
  
Clean as he was going to get, James took his time wrapping his fingers loosely around himself and imagining his friend. This time, the fantasy more elaborate, sweeter. Spock kissing him. Spock holding him as James wanted to hold Spock. The two of them falling easily to James' bed, kissing and touching. James imagined taking Spock's length in hand, stroking firm and even. Spock's face would open to him, gasping in pleasure as James tangled their fingers together above Spock's head. Spock would wrap a hand around James' cock, gripping and squeezing with those sensitive fingers.  
  
Stroking quickly at himself in the shallows, James moaned as he imagined the fierce, almost burning-hot touch of Spock's cheek against his. Twisting his wrist, James pumped his hips up, closing his eyes and moaning Spock's name. Panting harder, James let himself fall, pushing himself over that edge, imagining Spock would be there to catch him as they fell together.  
  
Shuddering in the warm, sleepy glow afterward, James cleaned himself up and dried himself off, gathering his damp clothes and making his way back to camp silently.   
  
Knowing it was only a fantasy was starting to eat at James' thoughts, but he wasn't sure how to ask; and if Spock didn't feel the same, there was no where else to turn if things got awkward between them.  
  
~  
  
The next morning, James padded outside to find Spock hanging several pouches along the side of the shuttle.  
  
"Oh, did it work?" James asked, excited.  
  
Spock lifted a finished pouch from where it was tied securely to his belt. James wasn't sure how, but he could see the triumph in Spock's eyes. "Indeed."  
  
"That's fantastic." James accepted the pouch, examining the neat seal that glued the two leaves together. There was no way to set the pouch on the ground, but it would hold water nicely and hang easily from the ship for storage.   
  
"These will be ready for use in approximately 20.26 hours."  
  
"That's great, Spock. We should celebrate."  
  
"And how do you propose we do that?" Spock said, his eyebrow climbing, but James could tell he was just as excited.  
  
"Let's take the morning off, just spend the whole day hanging out, being lazy. We can really slow-roast some of the mushroom with those nuts you found yesterday. Give it a nice smokey flavor and have it for dinner."  
  
"I accept your proposal. A day of rest would be welcome."  
  
James smiled. "Maybe we can even agree on a set of rules for that board game and play a few rounds."  
  
"I am amenable to your suggestion," Spock said, following easily as James dragged him away from the last of the pouches and setting them across from each other at the board.  
  
"Would it not be beneficial to begin the meal before we indulge in play?"  
  
"Oh, fine, go cook. I'll just sit here and draw on our pieces until you're satisfied." The last time James had volunteered to help with making anything more difficult than soup stock, he'd only managed in burning his fingers and accidentally putting the fire out before Spock shooed him away.  
  
By the time Spock rejoined him, James had created a completely new game. Each piece having it's own name and abilities. Spock was a dutiful student though, and they soon were playing game after game as the smell of their food filled the air between them.


	3. Chapter 3

That afternoon, James was full sated and sleepy as he leaned back against the log they usually sat on for dinner. Spock was inside, tending to 'Clint's' needs. James couldn't be happier.

"This is the life, isn't it, Spock?" He asked, smiling dopily up at his companion when Spock reemerged.

"I confess, our arrangement encourages a certain amount of contentment."

"Yeah, I don't even mind the fog anymore. If our being here is the result of some malicious influence, they did a terrible job of making us miserable."

"Indeed."

"Oh, hey, come here. I haven't taken care of your hands since lunch."

"That will be unnecessary." Spock said, folding his hands carefully behind his back.

That was when James noticed they were no longer wrapped up. "Oh, you mean they're all better?"

Spock nodded, silently.

James looked away, thinking. "You know, I meant what I said."

"To which statement are you referring?"

"That I'd still massage your hands once they were better. If you want, that is."

After some deliberation, Spock sat, stretching out his palm and James smiled.

They sat together in silence, enjoying each other's company as James focused on each knuckle, feeling the different textures of Spock's palm without the bandaging. As Spock began to pull his hand away, James made a decision, grabbing it back.

"Spock."

"Yes, James?"

James waited until Spock's gaze met his. "Spock, I don't know what our lives were like before this. I don't know if we were farmers; I don't know if we were strangers. Maybe, I was the captain of a starship, and you were my first officer. I honestly have no idea, but what I do know is how I feel now."

"And that is?" Spock's voice was soft, as if James would disappear should he speak too loudly.

"I care about you, Spock. I might even love you. I can't remember what love is like, but I know I would be more than happy to stay here, like this, with you, for the rest of our lives, however long that is."

"James," Spock breathed, and they were kissing. Leaning together over their hands, clasped together between them. Spock tugged at James' grip, leaning back until James was laid out over-top Spock, their bodies touching from head to toe as their lips and tongues nipped and bit. Moans filled James' ears.

"Oh, fuck, Spock," James moaned, looking down into Spock's face as he gently tugged Spock's pants down, freeing the other man's cock which was hard, leaking clear, slippery pre-cum over James' fingers. James painted slick trails over Spock, watching the beautiful face . "I want you. I wanted you that first night. I won't stop wanting you. No matter how many times I jerked off after dinner, I _couldn't_ stop wanting you, and I hope I never do."

"James, please."

James didn't know exactly what Spock was begging for, but the way the man's voice jumped in pitch when James tightened his grip made him think he was at least on the right track.

"Spock." James buried his face in Spock's neck. Grinding his hips against Spock's, he pushed the other man into the ground, kissing and sucking at Spock's neck, climbing higher and closer to what was the best orgasm he could ever remember. Pleasure arched over his spine, pooling in his gut, ready to snap at the slightest prompt.

"James," Spock gasped. "I want you... too."

He came. Groaning and bucking and squeezing too tightly at Spock's length, James came explosively, closely followed by Spock. Cum shooting between them and dotting Spock's shirt. The bright white splashes absolutely gorgeous against the deep, royal blue of his shirt.

Collapsing against Spock's chest, James panted for breath. Both pleasantly exhausted by their activities.

"Well, that was..."

"Indeed."

James laughed. "Of all the things you could say, that's your response?" James looked up at Spock, chin propped on his hands.

Spock smoothed a hand over the back of James' head, lingering in the tangled, blond curls. "Your attentions were greatly appreciated."

"Hmm, thanks. We're both gonna need a bath tonight."

"My arm has yet to sufficiently heal in order to remove the splint."

James looked at the limb in question. "It's a good thing you don't need to bathe as often as I do. "

"My species does not perspire."

"No kidding?"

"I do not kid, James."

James grinned, kissing the tip of Spock's nose affectionately. "Come on. I'll help you clean up while keeping that arm of yours dry."

~

At the stream, James tugged Spock's hand, coaxing him towards the water. "Come on, this is where you bring 'Clint' when he needs a clean up, right? What's got you so antsy?"

"I do not relish the feeling of water."

"What? Did you grow up in a desert or something?"

Spock gave him a look. "I do not know."

"Right, sorry. I... never mind. Let's just get cleaned up." James let go of Spock's hand, turning to the water. He had hoped Spock would be willing to join him, but he wasn't about to force the man into something he didn't want.

"James."

James turned back around at Spock's request, finding himself pulled into a bruising kiss. Smiling into the kiss, James allowed himself to be taken, sharing everything he felt for Spock.

Slowly, they broke apart, Spock leaning his forehead against James'. "My regard for you is no weaker than your feelings for me," He said softly.

James smiled. "Thanks, sorry. Here, you don't have to get in." James toed off his shoes, stepping into the water and pulling off his shirt. "Come here."

Spock stood on the edge of the bank, watching James cautiously as James wet his shirt.

Standing, the blond man wrung out the excess water before dabbing at the dry spots of cum painting Spock's front. Focused on his work, James carefully wiped until the last of it was gone. bending, he dunked his shirt, allowing the current to rinse away the evidence of their amorous actions from earlier.

James turned back as he felt Spock's hand at his shoulder. "What?"

Spock didn't say anything, only pushed at James' shoulder until he knelt and sat in the shallow water.

"What?" James asked again as Spock knelt on the dry bank, reaching out and palming James' crotch. "Wait, Spock. What are you doing?"

"You intended that both of us be present in order to clean each other, did you not?"

"Yeah, but you said you don't like water."

"I find the pleasure gained from doing this," Spock squeezed and rubbed at James' cock, pulling a moan from deep in his chest. "far surpasses the unpleasantness of water."

James moaned, reaching up to pull Spock into a kiss as the other man opened his pants, reaching inside and stroking his hardening cock.

Legs spread, panting heavily, James drank in the quiet grunts and sighs of pleasure Spock released. His lover was as precise and efficient at this as he was in everything else he did, and James felt himself rocketing quickly towards the edge again.

James pulled back, fists clenching and unclenching on Spock's shoulders as he panted for breath. "Spock, I can't- I'm not-"

"Come, James. I wish to see you. Come."

The husky order of Spock's voice commanded obedience; and James obeyed, arching and shooting thick steams of milk from his cock. The white trails swirled before his eyes in the shallow waters as James gasped for air, swaying precariously.

Spock caught him moments before James listed completely sideways and fell into the water.

"Thanks," James said, shaking the pleasant dizziness from his eyes and looking up into Spock's face.

A deep green flush stained Spock's cheeks as his gaze took in James' form. "You arouse me."

James smirked, noticing the stubborn tent at the front of Spock's pants. "Do I?" He pushed at Spock's shoulders, pleased when Spock followed his guide, lying back beside the stream. Crawling up Spock's spread legs, James purred, "Relax. I'll take care of you."

"Yes," Spock sighed, his knees falling apart to make room for James as he began kissing and nipping at the black cloth covering Spock's thighs.

Steady fingers worked the clasp of Spock's pants, parting the fabric, revealing the hard column to James' hot gaze. Licking his lips, James lowered his mouth, kissing and nipping at the head of the cock before him. There was significantly less pre-cum than his own made. But what there was tasted spicy, like ginger and garlic. Even though James couldn't remember having eaten either, he recognized the flavors instantly, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

He sucked for hours or minutes, bobbing slow and steady to the chorus of sighs and pants Spock gave him. Their sounds bathed his ears with ambrosia, and he smiled. A low moan quaked from his throat, trembling around Spock's length as the other man rested both hands over James' shoulders, demanding without words that he continue. Drawing his teeth lightly up the length got a moan and a buck, so he did it again.

"James, I am... close."

"How close?" James continued to stroke Spock's length with his hand as he asked the question.

"I am... unable to calculate at this time."

James laughed, diving back in and humming happily.

Spock moaned for him again, his hands trembling over James' head as he drew ever closer under James attentions. James wanted him to cum, wanted to taste that bitter spice on his tongue in it's purest form. Wanted to see Spock unravel for him again.

As if James had asked for it aloud, Spock trembled and came, shooting deep into James throat. Trying his best to swallow everything, James was unable to keep more than the first few gulps before he had to pull back, coughing.

"Sorry," James gasped.

"Do not apologize." Spock's voice was a deep timber. "I enjoyed your attentions... immensely."

James smiled, crawling up and lying beside Spock, ignoring the uncomfortableness of his wet clothes in favor of their closeness.

It was some time before either of them spoke again. Spock's fingers played idly with James' hair when the blond man did. "We should be getting back. It'll be dark soon."

"Yes; however, then we might repeat our actions in the comfort of a bed."

James grinned hopping up and pulling Spock with him. "I like your thinking, Commander."

~

The next few weeks continued in much the same way their first week had. Except now, James had taken to bathing in the mornings and spending the better part of the evening with Spock, exploring each other's bodies. It was about a week after Spock's splint had come off that he entered their shared room in the early morning.

"Hey, Lover." James mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he woke to find Spock gently rousing him with a hand on his shoulder. "Something wrong?"

"No; however, I believe 'Clint' is about to wake up."

"What, really?" That had James' attention immediately. He sat up, pausing only to stretch before he threw on his pants and proceeded into the other room where the man in red lay still asleep. "How can you tell?"

"When I gave him his morning meal, I felt a change in his thought patterns that I had not felt before. I sensed his body's reaction to becoming full."

"You can do that?" James looked back at his lover, amazed. "You never told me you could do that."

"I was not aware until this morning. If I focus on the thoughts of a willing or unconscious mind, I am able to discern a modicum of mental activity. I did not recognize the stimulus' presence until this morning."

"Wow. We're gonna have to look into that later." James turned back to their third man, wondering if he would awake, and hoping that when he did, he wasn't going to be a victim of the same memory loss they were. James had so many questions about their life before.

They waited silently for several minutes before Spock interrupted James' inner musings. "I cannot say with any certainty when he will awaken, only that I believe he shall."

James sighed. "Alright. We're running a bit low on food anyway. I don't think we should leave him to wake up alone though, and I'm still in need of a bath after last night." Spock had slipped a finger inside his ass, and it'd felt so good that he cried when he came.

"I propose that I take first vigil while you tend to your daily needs and forage for our food. When you return, I shall prepare lunch while you watch over him."

"Sounds like a plan." James pressed a kiss to Spock's cheek before heading out, grabbing his pack and clothes in the process.

~

'Clint' hadn't woken while James had been out digging tubers or cutting a chunk from one of several fungal colonies they'd found surrounding their campsite. Nor had he awoken while Spock had been cooking lunch. They'd spent the afternoon playing games inside, even though it meant they had to quit much sooner because it was dark.

"We're going to need to get some sleep soon," James pointed out remorsefully.

"Indeed."

"Do you think we'll hear him from the other room if he wakes up?"

"Unless we are engaged in coitus, I believe that I will be able to hear and awaken to any movement in this room."

"Oh, thank god." James breathed a sigh of relief. "I was _so_ not looking forward to suggesting we sleep apart."

Spock smiled in that reserved way of his. "That will not be necessary."

"Speaking of coitus..."

James laughed, wrapping his legs about Spock's waist as the other man lifted him up, carrying him easily with one arm into the other room before dropping him to the bed and promptly attacking his neck.

Humming, while eagerly tugging at Spock's clothes, James almost didn't catch it when Spock asked, "Would you be amenable to allowing me inside you?"

"Like last night? Fuck, Spock, I think that was the best orgasm of my life. Of course I'll let you do that again."

"I was, in actuality... referring to something... more intimate."

"Such as?" James couldn't think of anything; but in the month and a half they'd been doing _things_ to each other, it'd never once occurred to him to ask to have Spock's finger shoved up there.

"If you would allow it. I intend to insert my penis into your rectum."

James winced, both at the phrasing and the mental image. "Spock, as wonderful as your finger was, I'm not sure anything larger would ever _fit_ up there. Why don't you try two fingers first, just to be safe."

"Your request is logical," Spock growled, pulling the last of their clothes off and leaving them in a neat pile by the foot of the bed.

James lay back, and Spock took position above him, sucking his first two fingers into his mouth and wetting them thoroughly before reaching down past James' cock and balls. He teased the puckered opening there with his first finger until it opened for him, accepting Spock's wet finger with an easy slide.

James moaned, pushing back and wrapping his hand loosely around his cock, which was hard and dripping with pre-cum. "Alright. Try the other one."

It felt okay at first, but it didn't take long before James was wincing at the slightest movement of Spock's fingers in his ass. The friction burned unpleasantly at his entrance, feeling tight and hot but not quite the ways he wanted it to.

Eventually, his erection all but a distant memory, James felt Spock remove his fingers, placing a gentle kiss on James' lips.

"I now understand your reluctance. I had not realized how much friction you felt. I believe some form of lubricant will need to be obtained."

"Yeah." James sighed, the mood officially murdered. "Stay?" He asked when Spock began to move away.

"I shall return shortly, however, I am still in need of release." Spock gestured to the thick, green cock waving jauntily up at James.

"No, let me." James pushed Spock willingly back into the pallet. Crawling down Spock's outstretched form, James kissed and nipped his way across his lover's body, coming to rest at the dripping, eager cock. With a low hum, James sank down and began to suckle.

"James..." Spock's fingers tangled in James' shaggy hair, brushing hard paths over his scalp, scratching against his skin. "More."

James was more than happy to obey, bobbing as deeply as he could, taking in everything Spock had to offer until his nose was pressed deep into the curls of Spock's pubes.

Well familiar with Spock's body after almost a month sleeping together, James made quick work in bringing Spock to the edge. Slowing only when Spock's thighs began to clench in time with his hands. Urging James for more just as James was giving him less.

"Please, do not... Do not stop."

James smirked holding Spock deep in his throat but refusing to move, settling, waiting. The heavy length on his tongue pulsed and throbbed. Begging in the way Spock couldn't. Desperate moans and gasps as he began to writhe, helpless victim to James' torture.

Closing his eyes, James took pity and resumed his movements, sucking, bobbing, thrusting squeezing all at the same time, all designed to pull Spock's essence from him, taste that alien garlic and spice.

With a choking gasp, Spock came, filling James mouth until it overflowed.

White spots dotted his chin, and James licked them up with gusto, climbing up to lie with his lover, arms wrapped loosely around Spock's chest as he cuddled up to the heaving side. "Good?"

Spock breathed a moment longer before he was able to reply. "I do not believe that word encompasses the extent of the sensations you gave."

James laughed. "Thanks, I liked it too."

Pulling the rough, wool blanket from the floor, Spock wrapped both arms around James, holding him close.

~

'Clint' didn't wake up for another two days, but around lunch, as James was sitting on the floor knocking stones, he heard a low moan. Looking up, he heard it again.

"Spock? Hey, Spock!" James called, forgetting about his game entirely. Another groan before 'Clint' began to shift, his head turning from side to side.

Spock hurried into the room just in time for both of them to see 'Clint' open his eyes. He blinked up at James' face.

"What? What happened?"

"Hey, welcome back. Good to see you finally wake up."

"How... how long was I out?"

"A period of 48.7 days has passed since the time James and myself regained consciousness."

"What happened? I... I can't remember... I can't remember anything."

"Hey, hey relax." James pushed the other man back down as he began to struggle against the weight of the blanket on him.

"Why can't I move my arms?" He began to pant with fear, panic creeping in from the corners of his eyes.

"You're fine. We took good care of you. You've just been asleep for over a month. You'll be up and moving about in no time."

"I... Start from the beginning."

James did, introducing himself and Spock, then explaining how none of them remembered. How they had woken up in the midst of a crash, pulling him from the wreckage before making it their home after it was safe. How they had settled into a routine.

"Okay... This is just..."

"A lot to take in. We know. Take your time. Just one thing."

"Yeah?"

"What's your name?"

'Clint' gave them both a wry smile. "Kevin Riley."

"Okay, Kevin. Well, it's nice to finally meet you."

Kevin laughed. "Thanks, you too."

"Do you need anything? We're about to have lunch, if you'd like to try some solid food, we've been giving you broth for a while, I don't know how well your body would be able to take it."

"Yeah. You'll probably need to feed me, but first ah... I really need to pee."

Spock stepped forward, lifting Kevin in his arms, draping one limp elbow over his shoulder. "You will be able to tend to the meal while I assist Kevin?"

"Yeah that's fine." James leaned over Kevin placing a light kiss on Spock's lips before pulling away.

"Wait, I thought you guys said you didn't remember anything from before the crash?"

James stopped in the doorway, looking back at Kevin. "We don't."

He left, sitting beside the fire and poking at their stew. The access panel they used as a stovetop had thankfully _not_ warped as Spock had predicted, and so James was free to collect a few stones to knock while he kept and eye on the food and waited for his lover to return.

~

As it turned out, Kevin's range of motion was greater than they had originally thought. He'd needed Spock's help eating, but he was able to guide a bottle of water when lifted to his lips and even sit up for short periods unassisted, but it wasn't too long after lunch that he began to list to one side, nodding in and out of the conversation.

James yawned exaggeratedly, stretching his arms above his head. "I think I might have a nap, what about you Kevin?"

Kevin nodded sleepily, barely able to lift his arm over Spock's shoulders as the other man lifted him up. He was sound asleep before they even got him back to his room.

Back outside the room, Spock turned to James, a flicker of worry in his eyes. "I have not known you to take naps in the afternoon. Are you well?"

"I'm fine. I just figured Kevin could use an excuse to get some rest."

"I see. That was... thoughtful of you."

James smiled, tangling their fingers and pressing a light kiss to Spock's lips; but when he went to pull back, Spock wrapped both arms around James' waist pulling him in, using teeth and tongue until he managed to coax a heady moan from his lover's throat.

They both froze at the mumble of sound that came from the open door to Kevin's room, but he didn't wake.

"Shit," James chuckled, pulling Spock outside through the heavy, leaf curtain that was about ready for replacement again. "I guess we're going to have to figure out a way to have sex around him now."

"Indeed."

James smirked at Spock's usual reply, planting another kiss on Spock's lips before dragging him off in the direction of the stream.

~

It wasn't even a week later, Spock was helping Kevin as he relearned to walk while James nibbled at the leftover stew from lunch when a shadow passed overhead.

"What the fuck was that?" James looked up, reaching for the shrapnel knife he'd been using earlier to chop vegetables.

"I do not know." Spock had lifted Kevin, carrying the other man over.

The shape made another pass overhead, larger this time.

"Think we've finally found that fauna we were looking for?"

Spock's expression hardened.

"Sorry, Kevin, but I think it'd be safest if you waited inside," James said carefully.

"Yeah. I think you're right. Be careful." Kevin said as Spock carried him back into their home.

Spock returned outside, carrying his own knife as the shadow returned a third time, hovering overhead and growing larger. A great roaring whine getting louder and louder the closer it came. James stepped back until he was standing beside Spock.

"Think we're going to make it?"

Spock turned to James, giving his lover a hard, biting kiss before the shape cut through the fog, setting down a few feet from them.

It was a shuttle, Like theirs but slightly larger. The door fell outward, creating a ramp. They stood their ground, waiting carefully to see who, or what, came out of it.

A figure, dressed in a full suit of padded protection, stepped slowly out of the vehicle as the whine cut out. Lifting a hand to a button at it's neck, the person spoke. A male voice carried out to them.

"James Tiberius Kirk, you are under arrest for the assault of a Starfleet vessel, the murder of the twenty five crewman that were on that vessel, resisting arrest, and the kidnapping of Starfleet officers Commander Spock and Lieutenant Commander Riley. "

"The T stands for 'Tiberius?!'" James balked.

The man continued undeterred. "You have the choice to come peaceably or by force. Will you come of your own will?"

James turned to Spock. "I don't remember any of that. Do you?"

Spock made a curt shake of his head. "I believe we should go with him. He may have connections to our former life."

James hesitated. "I know, It's just... I like this life. With you, I'm happy." He glanced back at the man dressed in a full containment suit. Two more now stood to either side of him.

"I do as well, but if you truly did these things..."

"No. There must be a mistake. We'll find out. We'll find out, and we'll be back, or we'll go back to our lives before, but together this time. I promise you Spock." He pressed a determined kiss to Spock's lips, stepping forward and addressing the three figures with stunned expressions on their plastic guarded faces. "We will come with you willingly. There must be some mistake."

"There is no mistake, Kirk." One of them said, coming forward and clapping shackles to his wrists. "Once we get you out of this damn fog, you'll remember," he snarled.

James watched as the other two ran forward to Spock. "Are you alright, Commander?" one of them asked. "What did he do to Riley?"

"I am unharmed so is Lieutenant Commander Riley; however, he recently recovered from a coma and is unable to walk unassisted at this time."

"Dammit, Kirk. This is all your fault," One of them spat at James.

James blinked, taken aback at the sheer hostility coming from the newcomers, but if they believed him to be a mass murderer, it was no wonder they didn't like him.

James watched as the newcomers drew a levitated stretcher out of the new shuttle, moving past him into their home through the leaf curtain and back out with Kevin sitting in the middle.

"What's going on? James? Why are you... What's going on?"

"Relax, Kevin. It'll all be okay."

"No, it's not okay. There must be some mistake." Kevin yelled, trying to get up and nearly falling out of the stretcher, only settling when Spock stepped up to him.

"Calm yourself, Kevin. Whatever has occurred, it will resolve itself in time."

"Yeah, twenty to life." One of the men sneered, before cowing under the piercing glare of Spock's gaze.

"Any functioning judiciary system would be forced to assume innocence until proven guilty. If you respect your culture in any way, you will honor that assumption."

"Yessir," He said weakly, pushing Kevin along.

Inside the shuttle, James watched as Kevin was taken away to a small med-chamber. They forced James into a holding cell identical to Kevin's room back in their home. One cot, but instead of a leafy pallet it had a hard foam pad in it's place, the walls spotless chrome instead of the fire and weather tarnished walls of their home.

James turned at the sound of Spock's voice. "Open the barrier."

"But, commander. It's not safe."

"I will be the judge of that. I wish to sit with James, now open the barrier."

"I'm sorry, Commander, but I can't," The attendant said reluctantly.

Spock stood on the other side of the barrier, hand placed flat against the transparent surface.

James sighed, leaning against it from the inside. "I'm sorry. Maybe this was a mistake."

"If we had not complied, they would have taken you from me by force. This way, you show civility. We will know the truth soon.

Soon, the ramp to the shuttle closed and Jim felt the shuttle began to lift off. It was as if a fog had been lifted from his mind.

Apparently Spock felt it too, because he pulled away with a gasp, a jarringly loud, uncharacteristic gasp.

"Spock?" Jim asked slowly.

"I remember... Everything."


	4. Chapter 4

_"What's going on?" Jim asked, as he stepped into the small navigational room of his smuggling skiff. "We were supposed to be landing nearly two hours ago."_

_"We've got visitors." Bones, his partner and best friend groused._

_"How? We're six light years out from the nearest federation colony."_

_"You think I don't know that?" Bones growled. "They haven't spotted us yet. I managed to get us a pretty good hiding place here in the asteroid belt around Achird, but they've been scanning for the last Three hours."_

_"And you didn't think I should know this?"_

_"Jim, the last time I interrupted your 'nap time,' you put salt in my orange juice."_

_"What? I get cranky when I'm tired. You know that."_

_Bones glared at him._

_"Whatever, in any case, we have to get out of here. If we're late, things are only going to get worse," Jim said seriously._

_Before Bones could reply, the proximity alarm went off with an earsplitting siren._

_"Shit, we've been spotted. Get us our of here, Bones."_

_"The only place to go is_ away _from our destination."_

_"Then do it Bones."_

_A Vulcan face appeared on the main viewer, cold and unemotional as it said, "Captain James Tiberius Kirk, you are under arrest for-"_

_"Yeah, yeah. Screw you, Starfleet. I'm not going anywhere with you!" Jim snarled, cutting the feed. "Punch it Bones."_

_McCoy did, and their little craft shot off away from the Starfleet ship and the buyer waiting for their shipment._

_~_

_Two days later, they were still running. They were taking shifts to ease the workload of careening haphazardly around the universe to run from Starfleet's finest._

_"Why haven't they just given up yet?" Jim groaned, coming into the navigational room to take over for Bones._

_"I don't know. They've never followed us this long."_

_"I don't think they're after us for some petty smuggling. Especially considering we hadn't actually broken any laws this time... yet... Buying it is legal, it's only selling them to the people who could actually_ use _the stuff that's illegal."_

_"No, really, Jim? I had no idea. We've got bigger problems than your opinion of Starfleet ethics policies."_

_"We're almost out of fuel; I know."_

_"What do you propose we do about it?"_

_"Let ourselves get caught."_

_"What? They'll confiscate the medications."_

_"Then we'll just have to buy more. Or, once we've cleared our names, since we haven't actually_ done _anything, we'll pick it up and get back to Achird. We'll be a bit behind schedule, but you said no one was going to die without this stuff right?"_

_"No, just semi-permanent muscle atrophy and temporary brain damage."_

_"Allergies can do that?"_

_"Says the man whose hands swell up every time he eats Pestario brand Gouda cheese but not any other brand."_

_"I thought we established it was the wax they wrapped it in."_

_"No, I tested you for that last time you came in for a physical."_

_"You said that hypo was vitamins."_

_"It was. I did a scratch test while you were unconscious."_

_"I was unconscious?"_

_"Focus, Jim."_

_Jim grumbled, but sat down beside his partner. "Alright, so we hail them, let them take us into custody, call our lawyer and we'll be back to Achird in ten hours, tops."_

_The moment Jim cut the engine, the vulcan face was back up on screen._

_"We have got to turn off that automatically accepting calls thing."_

_"James Tiberius kirk, you are under arrest for the assault of a Starfleet vessel, the murder of the twenty five crewman that were on that vessel, and resisting arrest for 2.34 days."_

_"Murder?!" Bones growled. "What damned fool told you that crock?"_

_"You have the choice to come peaceably or by force. Will you come of your own will?"_

_"I'm not a murderer!"_

_~_

_Jim was sitting in a cell, angrily pacing the floor when Bones came in. "So? What's going on?" Jim asked, coming to the edge of the shield between them._

_"Spock's ship was attacked two weeks ago by someone_ claiming _to be you. Damned hobgoblin is convinced you did it; and with the word of a_ Vulcan _against you, you're going to have a_ damned _hard time proving your innocence."_

_"There's no way it could be me. Two weeks ago you and I were staking out a supplier in the Space Balkans."_

_"Yes, a place there is no record of us having visited in nearly thirteen years."_

_"Damn the semi-illegal nature of our business..."_

_"Look. I'll get our lawyer, see if he can help; but Jim, there really isn't much I can do. Unless Spock comes to his senses, you're looking at a life sentence."_

_~_

_"Alright, Slime." The guard sneered, pointing his phaser at Jim through the shield. "Back away from the door and put your hands shoulder width apart on the wall."_

_Jim sighed and did as he was told while a second guard released the shield and pushed his way into the small cell, cuffing Jim and wrestling him out._

_"Ow, dammit. I'm not_ fighting _you!"_

_"Just move, Dirtbag!"_

_"Dirtbag? That's the insult you're gonna go with? Ow, I'm moving, I'm moving."_

_Jim followed the full security detail through the halls of the_ Enterprise _to the shuttle bay where Spock himself was waiting._

_"Hey, aren't you the captain of this ship? How can you take me to court if you're the captain?"_

_"I am not the captain."_

_"Not very talkative are you?"_

_Spock stared at him. Jim just sighed and moved into the shuttle, where he was pointed to a cell with one bed, one porthole, and only one way in or out. The electromagnet released on Jim's manacles and he turned to see Spock through the translucent shield._

_"I didn't do this."_

_"You have a repeat offense record, and the man who attacked my ship gave me the name Jim Kirk."_

_"Is that exactly how he gave his name?"_

_"You know what was said. You said it."_

_"Humor me." Jim glared._

_"You said, I quote: 'Just remember, the man who put one over on the only Vulcan in Starfleet is the one and only Jim Kirk!'"_

_"No, I wasn't; and I_ don't _introduce myself like that. 'I am James T. Ki-'" began to demonstrate._

_"Shut it, Prick." The second guard growled._

_Jim glared him this time._

_"Get back." The man pointed a phaser at him._

_Jim merely rolled his eyes. "That's really unnecessary; I'm_ behind _the force field."_

_"The prisoner is correct, Lieutenant Commander Riley. I recommend, at this time, that you take a recreational shift as I will not require your navigational skills for some time," Spock said as he guided the shuttle out of the hanger and into the depths of space._

_"You know, given different circumstances, we might have become friends, Spock."_

_"Under no circumstances, would we ever be 'friends,' Mister Kirk."_

_~_

_Jim woke with a start as just about every alarm on the ship went off at once. "What's going on?"_

_"An unpredictably strong solar flare has damaged our navigational equipment, I am forced to make an emergency landing on the nearest Class M planet," Spock responded._

_"Wow, I didn't actually expect you to answer that," Jim said when a sudden jolt of turbulence caused the shuttle to rock, knocking Jim into a wall as Riley lost his balance, cutting his arm and hitting his head with a sharp crack on the way to the floor._

_There was another jolt as something struck them from the starboard side. Spock was almost frantic looking as he fought to keep control of the failing vehicle._

_"You need a navigator."_

_"I will not release a known fugitive."_

_"'Innocent until proven guilty,' and if you don't let me out of this thing, we're going to die before I can be proven guilty."_

_"Is that a confession?"_

_"No, and you need my help," Jim snarled as another jostle came from the other side as they approached the planet at breakneck speeds._

_Suddenly, the shield came down and Jim rushed forward, taking in the read outs on the navigation panels._

_"I did not-"_

_"I don't care, Spock. Now, pull up, you're coming in_ way _too fast."_

_"I do not need your assistance."_

_"Shut up, and do it."_

_They continued in silence, broken by Jim's shouted instructions as the ground rose up to meet them. With a sharp bounce the shuttle's control panels exploded in sparks, fire starting up at the navigational station. Another sharp crack against the bottom of the hull as they took out a towering tree, crashing into the foggy undergrowth._

_Everything went dark._

~

"Spock. I didn't do it. I swear, I had nothing do with-"

"I know." Spock reached out laying his hand against the transparency; and Jim accepted it, placing his own hand over Spock's. "There is not a malicious instinct in your nature. The 'Jim Kirk' who attacked my ship was not you, James. I apologize for treating you in such a way. I was wrong."

"Spock no. You'd just lost your family, and yes your crew is your family. Someone who introduced himself as me did that to you... you had every right to hate me."

"No, I did not know you-"

"Spock. It's in the past. We'll figure it out."

Spock nodded, turning to the attendant. "Release him."

"Commander?"

"This man is innocent. My memory was compromised by my emotional state. Release him."

With even greater reluctance, the officer Shook his head.

"Oh, for- I'm not gonna bite."

"On the contrary, James. You bite quite frequently."

Jim laughed, "You sure you should be making jokes like that while I'm still locked up?"

"We will get through this, James."

"Thank you, Spock."

~

Despite Spock's assurance that Jim was innocent, the Starfleet captain assigned to the ship which had picked them up refused to release him until they had returned him to Earth. The official orders mandated that Jim be returned to Earth for due process of the law, and rather than risk the ire of an admiral, the captain of the _Enterprise_ insisted they take him back.

Jim hadn't even been permitted to see Spock for the entire two and a half weeks it took for them to get back. Something about keeping witnesses from contaminating each other. Considering Spock's newest testament made Jim _not_ actually a witness to _anything_ was frustrating to no end.

Worse, they wouldn't even let Jim leave once they got back to Earth; and Jim was sitting in a jail waiting to be tried. At least, he'd learned the _Enterprise_ was going to be sticking around for maintenance and upgrades for the better part of a month. Maybe he'd eventually get out and be able to catch Spock before he disappeared into the great beyond never to be heard from again.

It was day twenty-seven since he and Spock had been taken from their home together that a guard came tapping on his cell door.

"You're free to go."

"What? Just like that?"

"Yeah." The burly woman popped her gum loudly. "Some 'fleet officer finished filing the paperwork proving you were misidentified. The real culprit's been found."

"Oh, thank god, finally." Jim staggered up, stepping out into the hall.

"Honestly, I've never seen anyone get through it in less than two months, unless they work here, but that wouldn't make it this fast. Your friend must be some kind of red tape fanatic."

Jim wondered who it was, certainly not Bones, until he came around the corner into the main offices and saw who was waiting patiently to one side. "Spock!"

Spock accepted the tackle hug with much more dignity than Jim gave it. "Oh, my god. You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

"And I you, James."

Jim smiled, kissing Spock's neck. "I missed you. It's been a month. I just... Can we get out of here?"

"Yes, It is not far to my residence."

"Good." Jim hugged Spock tightly before letting himself be led out.

~

Outside, the streets of San Francisco stretched around them in all directions, covered in a thin layer of fog. Jim gazed around, taking it all in.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to look at fog the same way again."

"Is this a good or bad development?" Spock asked, flagging down a cab.

"Neither, just... fog..."

Climbing into the cab, Spock gave the driver his address before pulling Jim close, kissing at Jim's neck.

"You were wrong," Jim said around a gasp.

"When was I wrong?"

"On the shuttle, I said 'We could have been friends under different circumstances.' and you said 'No meeting between us could ever be pleasurable.' You were wrong."

"That is not the precise quotation; however, you were correct. Different circumstances gave us an unbiased opportunity."

"I'm glad."

"Indeed. As am I."

The rest of the cab ride passed in a blur as Jim put everything he had into showing Spock everything he had missed this last month with his lips and tongue on Spock's.

Finally, they arrived, Spock leading the way out of the cab, and to his place. Jim was stunned when they got there.

"It's empty." Jim said, stunned.

"The majority of my belongings remained on my ship before it was destroyed."

"Spock, I'm going to enter Starfleet. I'm going to quit smuggling; I want to be with you."

"You are welcome to stay with me while you complete your studies."

"But what about your commission?"

"I intend to inform Starfleet that I have chosen a mate. There are regulations preventing the separation of members of a Vulcan pair-bond. I will teach at the academy for the next four years while you and your former partner, Leonard, complete your studies."

Jim grinned. "Spock. Have I told you how much I love you?"

"Yes; however, I would gladly hear it again."

Chuckling, Jim kissed Spock's cheek. "I love you." He walked backwards, drawing Spock towards the open door to the bedroom. The Spartan sheet and pillow lay crisply arranged beside a bare end table. "Just one thing."

"Yes?"

"After this, we are buying you some furniture, because this is absurd."

Spock smiled, "Whatever you desire you shall have."

"Good, because I want you to make love to me."

"Yes."

They kissed. Jim framed both his hands around Spock's face, pulling him close to shower him with love and affection.

Outside, the fog clouding the window made way for rain, dripping and spattering on the pane getting stronger as the pair of lovers dropped naked to the bed, rubbing and stroking. Face, chest, thighs, Jim explored Spock's body, hands brushing over every slope and valley of muscle. He felt each touch familiar and yet different. Now that he could remember his past, Spock's past.

They were the same people, but they were somehow more whole than they had been. Like someone had airbrushed all the shadows out of the picture, only now to turn them back on. The Spock and Jim of before had still been Spock and Jim; but now, they were more.

Jim loved that it hadn't changed them. The return of their memories hadn't pulled them apart. He'd never worried; but it felt like that was because it was something he'd forgotten to do.

Spock licked a stripe up his neck, biting into heated flesh, and Jim forgot all about introspection and focused on the moment. He watched, confused, as Spock pulled back, reaching for the bedside table until Spock returned, holding a small tube.

"Oh, fuck yes, Spock. Please."

Spock kissed him, delicious and just as hot as Jim felt. "Patience. I _will_ care for you."

"Thought you already did."

Spock gave Jim's unrepentant grin and exasperated look.

"But you love me anyway."

"Yes, James. I do. I love you."

Jim's chest seized happily the way it always did when he got Spock to say it for him. How often he'd made Spock say it back in their little home, he should have been used to it, but he wasn't, and he never wanted to be. "Say it again?"

Spock smiled and indulged him. "I love you."

Spock's fingers, slick with lube, were coating Jim's entrance.

"I've never done this, you know."

Spock's gaze shot up, equal parts disbelieving and concerned.

"I haven't forgotten or anything. I just... before all of this, I fancied myself completely straight. I'd only kissed another man as a joke."

"I understand."

Jim returned the gentle kiss. "I just... thought you should know."

"Thank you." Spock's first finger was sliding inside, wet and easy it felt nice, much better with the extra help of a little lube than it had with only Spock's saliva.

At the second finger, Jim tensed up, remembering how uncomfortable this had been the last time.

"Relax."

"Sorry," Jim mumbled, struggling to obey.

Spock didn't move until Jim was ready. Waiting patiently for as long as Jim needed, petting Jim's side in soothing strokes as they both waited, kissing languidly as if just passing the time.

"Thank you." Jim sighed as Spock gave a tentative press.

"For?" He asked, when Jim didn't clench down again.

"Just... for being so understanding, for knowing what to do."

Spock kissed Jim again. "I love you."

"For knowing just what to say." Jim nuzzled Spock's cheek as Spock added a third finger. Jim concentrated on staying relaxed and pliant, accepting what Spock was trying to do. "This is nice."

"'Nice'?"

"Yeah? Is it supposed to be Ba- ah- Oh, that's what- Do that again."

With a self-satisfied smirk, Spock did. Jim could feel a dribble of pre-cum exactly matching every time Spock pressed against that gland inside him.

"Fuck, Spock. I'm ready. I'm ready. I want it."

Spock's fingers withdrew, and Jim felt unimaginably empty, loose and desperate to be filled again. Suddenly, it felt like Spock couldn't get there fast enough, but then he was there, pressing against Jim's hole, and it was okay. Jim released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Pushing slowly inside, Spock hissed in Jim's ear, the sound mirroring Jim's feelings. "So... tight." Spock gritted. "James..."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." Jim agreed, gulping at the air. He'd never felt so overwhelmed in his life. A tight, slick fist wrapped around Jim's cock and he moaned. The sensations in his ass starting to go from good to better. "I need-"

"Yes. Yes James," Spock groaned, and Jim couldn't stand how hot it was.

Spock began to move, their breath and their emotions mingling together. Emotions and pleasure carrying them up until Jim was soaring. Soaring on a plateau of love, need and lust.

"Harder." Jim begged, pulling Spock in and kissing him, breathless and close, getting closer with each hard thrust inside him. Spock's pistoning thrusts perfect, straight and accurate; Jim's cock drooling constantly against his stomach. Little spots of color floated across Jim's eyes, and he gasped. Light exploding from the back of his mind an carrying outwards across his skin as he started to cum, his cock jerking and shooting everything he had as Spock's length inside him began to pour burst after burst of cum, filling him up until Jim felt like he was ready to blow, an aftershock so strong it was like a second orgasm rushing through him as he trembled, whimpering under the onslaught.

~

Jim awoke to to the feeling of gentle fingers cleaning his legs and stomach. "I pass out?"

"Yes, for .76 minutes."

Jim hummed, snuggling into Spock's pillow. "Come back to bed?"

Spock set aside the damp cloth, lifting the sheet and climbing in beside his lover.

"Best sex ever." Jim said, kissing Spock slowly.

Spock hmm'd, eyes closed as Jim watched him, his expression peaceful.

"I don't think I could be happier."

"The sentiment is mutual," Spock mumbled.

"Hey, Spock, do you think we could visit Kevin tomorrow? I've been worried about him."

"Kevin is on the _Enterprise_ , and will unlikely be able to entertain visitors; however, he has made a full recovery, although he has decided to keep the scar on his shoulder."

"Oh, well that's what I wanted to know. We'll have to comm him sometime."

"Indeed. Now, Sleep, James."

"Mm. I love it when you call me that," Jim said, tightening his grip one last time before letting himself drift towards sleep. For the first time in his life, he felt a path laid out before him. A guide giving his life focus and direction. He was more than happy to follow it everywhere, as long as Spock was by his side.

~The End~  


**Author's Note:**

> I am SO sorry for the lateness of this. Just a combination of this story kicking my ASS as it grew out of CONTROL while work took a turn for the crazy. BUT it is done now, and probably my best work. Enjoy =^.^=


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